


Inmates in Training Pt.2- May 14th

by merrabeth



Series: A Fic a Day in May ^_^ [7]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content, final part, realizations and shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 21:32:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1617761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrabeth/pseuds/merrabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Final part to the first part which is May 13th...uh...yeah...just a continuation...ok...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inmates in Training Pt.2- May 14th

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy ^_^ or don't...but it'd be great if you did.

Ian stretched as he walked back to the cafeteria. This wasn’t so bad. He could totally do six months of this. At least he didn’t have to do a whole year like he’d been originally sentenced to. But yeah, he could totally hold out the next 6 months.

“Ey, Ian!” he hears someone call his name. He looks to the direction of the voice and sees Mickey looking at him. He walks over, trying to contain his smile. He didn’t want to give himself away, but he always found this urge to smile around Mickey- like a crush. He never thought he’d have a proper crush until he found himself flirting with him. Mickey hadn’t responded so well to their first interaction, and maybe that’s why the dark haired boy avoided him. Shit, he hadn’t meant to make himself obvious, but he couldn’t help the impulse.

Ian took a seat across from Mickey, raising an eyebrow. “Finally came around, huh?” Ian asked, smirking because the fact that after a week of being ignored, Mickey was finally acknowledging him for some reason.

But his question had done the opposite of breaking the ice. Mickey’s eyes shifted before glaring back to Ian. And fuck, he couldn’t find it in himself to be afraid of that look. He’s seen Mickey give it to others- they knew to back off, but Ian just tried to fight his smile getting bigger and bigger. Why the fuck did he find everything this guy did amusing? “What’s up?” he asked, wanting for Mickey to get passed whatever it was he’d just said.

“You’re a Gallagher.” Mickey’s statement was nothing but simple.

“And you’re a Milkovich. It took me a minute but then I remembered your sister and-“

“What about my sister?” His eyes were cut to slits, challenging Gallagher for some unknown reason to the red head.

“Uh, we have classes together? Sheesh, didn’t know that was a fuckin’ crime.”

They were silent. And Mickey was just looking around, like he was constantly on the lookout for some reason.

“So, uh,” Mickey started, staring down at his knuckles, “how you likin’ it here so far?”

Ian shrugged, unsure of where this conversation was going. “Eh, it’s better than the group home. Not sure if that was a compliment or an insult to this place.”

Mickey’s eyebrows were curved, one scrunching down and the other raised in incredulity. “You’ve been in the system before?”

“Had a bit of a run-in previous summer, actually. I was only there for like a week, but still. It was hell. Guys there were fuckin’ staring hard. Making jokes and shit.”

Mickey surprised Ian with a laugh, one that seemed to be of genuine humor. “Can’t handle a joke or two, Gallagher?”

“Nah, I can. Just gets annoying after some point, you know. And I wasn’t really lookin’ to get into a fight but-“

“Yeah, why are you even here in the first place.” Ian almost thought he imagined the way Mickey’s blue eyes roamed over his body appreciatively. “You look too nice for this place.”

Again the words were coming out before Ian could totally process them. “What did _you_ do?”

Ian continued to hold the staring contest they somehow started. When Mickey realized Ian wasn’t going to give in- or maybe he just got tired of it- he sighed. “Assaulted a cop; broke parole.” He shrugged it off, waiting for Ian to answer his question.

“Riding in a stolen car. It was my sister’s boyfriend but my brother and I weren’t gonna pass up extra cash like that.” He watched Mickey accept his answer. “What, am I getting interviewed for something? Do I have to pass a test to become your friend or something?”

He was confused when he heard Mickey mumble “or something” but didn’t want to press his luck too much. He got the vibe he may have been pushing it just sitting here even though _he_ was the one invited over.

“How long you got in here?” Before Ian could answer, the ward called to them, telling them they had to meet in the gymnasium.

“Six months; I’m supposed to have a year, but thank fuck for my sister…”

Mickey knew how this thing went. Sure, the kid had six months sentenced, but the way things ran around here, if he kept up his cheery attitude, he’d be out by the end of this week.

A guy bumped into Ian, making him stumble towards Mickey before regaining his balance. Ian hadn’t reacted the way Mickey would’ve- he just stayed quiet. And as for the dick that created the halfway domino effect, he glanced back for maybe a second too long and- was that a fucking smile? Neither could be sure since the guy turned his head away too quickly.

“The fuck was that all about?” Ian mumbled.

“You’re not the fighting type right?” Mickey asked, already knowing the answer. Ian Gallagher had freckled skin-but only if you stood close enough could you notice clearly. And the fucker just looked delicate with his big green puppy dog eyes. He couldn’t be the fighting type.

Ian shook his head, confirming Mickey’s already known thought. “Nope. But that doesn’t mean I won’t back down from one. Why?” he looked to Mickey then, his eyes directed down a bit to meet Mickey’s eyes. “Is my bunk mate gonna be my body guard, too?” Ian laughed out. “ _Sweet_. I get a Milkovich guarding my ass.”

Mickey glared, hoping maybe Ian would get the point to shut the fuck up this time. He did, but that didn’t stop the little shit from grinning ear to ear as they were directed to their afternoon activities. Mickey groaned. Sports. He could watch ‘em. But playing them? He’d rather go to the weight room- that’s the only better thing to do here rather than fuckin’ a few dudes, but Mickey wasn’t completely ready to let the weight of his own thoughts sink through.

* * *

 

The really great thing about this place, to Mickey, was that it had many of the simple pleasures he couldn’t even get from his own house; like a shower. He always looked better when he was here, and he knew it.

He lounged on his bed rather than staying in the recreational room with the rest of the inmates. After getting washed up, he just really wanted to sleep- yet another luxury that he seemed to get here more than at home.

He heard the padded footsteps before the light that had made its way behind his closed lids was obstructed. He’d been on the brink of sleep; hanging off the edge of a cliff of consciousness just for someone to drag him back up and if that wasn’t the most irrigating thing ever. He snapped open eyes, aware of his burning ores of blue because that raging heat coursed through his body in an instant.

That was, until he found the obstruction to be Ian Fucking Gallagher in only his boxers and still wet from his shower. All the heat that had been running through him had all found its way southward, and the instantaneous feeling of it all had him blurting out. “What the fuck?”

Ian turned to Mickey, walking closer so that Ian and Mickey were seemingly inches apart as Ian reached on his bed to grab his pajamas.  “Sorry, Mick. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Really, now?” Mickey grumbled, trying to take his eyes away from the taller boy’s torso and how his muscles contracted as he settled back onto his feet, doing work of splaying out his clothes: a black tank and gray sweatpants. For the millisecond that Ian’s face was covered by the black fabric as he tugged it over his head, Mickey only saw a guy who he most definitely wouldn’t mind getting fucked by- shit, he _wanted_ Ian to fuck him and only staring at contracting muscles and biceps that could break a person was _not_ helping his hardening member.

Ian bent over, a playful smirk. “See something you like?” he wiggled his eyebrows as best as he could.

Mickey thought about it since his sweats were doing well to cover the slow yet painful work going on in his pants. He could lie, tell Ian to fuck off and try to say he wasn’t staring, but holy fuck in that moment, fucking off was the opposite of what he wanted Ian to do. But he couldn’t let that happen. He wasn’t about to be someone’s bitch, but-

“Maybe,” Mickey muttered, somehow getting his eyes glued to Ian’s. The playful look on his face dropped and was replaced by something of shock. Shit, maybe he read Ian wrong again.

“Oh,” Ian said. “Oh…oh…uh…”

“Shit,” Mickey hissed, sitting up straight and smacking their faces inches from each other’s. “If you tell anyone-“

“Seriously?” Ian interrupted. His face was hopeful, like he hadn’t just heard the threat that Mickey was trying to sputter out.

Mickey looked between Ian’s eyes, not sure which to focus on with them being so close. “Huh?”

Ian smiled, biting his lip a bit, and that only helped to egg on Mickey’s hard-on more. In a whispered tone, as if they weren’t the only ones in the dark room at the moment, he spoke. “Twenty minutes after lights out, meet me in the shower room.”

Before Mickey could answer, Ian was walking away, back to the rec room. He wasn’t sure what the fuck just happened, but if it was what he thought he was, lights out couldn’t come any sooner.

* * *

 

 Ian had taken a gamble, continuously shy of flirting with the Milkovich. He didn’t know much about them, but he knew their father was all sorts of douchey and it wasn’t the most impossible thing to think it got passed down through at least one of the children.

But it seemed as though Mickey Milkovich was actually gay and it had to be Ian’s lucky fucking day because at the rate he was going, he’d either be shunned or beaten to a pulp and he wasn’t really keen on either option.

As soon as the guard was done taking attendance and turned out the lights, he almost immediately climbed down from his bed, making his way to the shower room and waiting, wishing he had cigarettes but Lip hadn’t gotten them, so he had to wait until next week when he visited again. He started to think about how Lip had gotten away free of charge. He wanted to be upset, but the thing was that Lip would have been tried as an adult and going to jail for GTA was no something either of them wanted to see. So Ian gave himself up, and Tony took over from there, getting him only six months rather than the full year in this place.

“Hey,” he heard Mickey whisper as he walked in, his face barely seen through the dark of the room.

Ian should have been nervous; he’s never done this before; doesn’t know shit about the Milkovich and could be as dirty as his sister for all he knew, but it’s been a week and Ian’s been eyeing him ever since he saw him sitting there on his bunk. Ian smirked at the memory.

“’T so fuckin’, Firecrotch?” Mickey asked.

Ian smiled at the nickname and shrugged. “I think I recall you saying something about your liking to be on the bottom?” he phrased it as a question as if there was some possibility that he was wrong. He knew he wasn’t.

“I’m not about to be your bitch,” Mickey stepped back.

Through Ian’s confusion, he began to walk backwards, deeper into the room as he watched Mickey reluctantly yet intrinsically follow him towards a stall. “Who said anything about you being my bitch?” He grinned, watching Mickey look almost like a scared puppy. But he couldn’t help but believe that Mickey’s had more experience than himself. “You’ll like it, I promise,” Ian stated as they entered a random stall, pulling the curtains closed behind them. They stood there for a beat before Ian stepped in. Mickey pulled back, placing a hand on Ian’s chest to stop him.

“No kissing.” That was always and would always be Mickey’s only rule. A rule Ian wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep so easily, but if it meant being balls deep in Mickey then he’d find a way to control himself.

“You gonna take your pants off or you just gonna stare at me all night?” Mickey asked, already tugging at the drawstrings of his sweats. Ian followed, and found that Mickey was fully hard already. He almost questioned aloud when he had time, but he was quickly filling himself and the urge for something warm and tight was already overwhelming his sense.

Ian grabbed hold of Mickey’s shoulder hard, spinning him around and pinning him to the side wall of the stall with his own body, reveling in how his dick fit perfectly in the crease of Mickey’s cheeks. When Mickey arched his back a bit to push back into Ian’s teasing movements, he was stuck between a laugh and a groan. “Could you hurry it the fuck up back there?”

Ian almost asked what the rush was, blessed at how different this felt from being with Kash or Ned. Mickey’s ass was perfect in every way so far and Ian just wanted to savor it. But the idea of being inside him was making him harder, so he reluctantly pulled back some and sucked on a finger before sliding it inside Mickey’s hole.

They both shared a moan; Ian at the tightness and Mickey at the feeling of having _something_ inside him. As Ian’s finger began to move, Mickey figured one finger wasn’t enough. “Hurry. Up.” He was beginning to pant and Mickey wasn’t really big on making much noise. Ian grinned and pulled back to suck on his middle and ring finger, then slid all three back in, consequently making Mickey clench his fists at the flat surface of the wall and gasp sharply. But he couldn’t let that sink in too long as he did work of changing his angle to find Mickey’s sweet spot.

Mickey wasn’t having it. “Gallagher, I swear to God if you don’t-shit, shit, shit, _FUCK_!” Mickey exclaimed in a whisper while Ian’s fingers found his bundle and grazed across it repeatedly, trying hard to keep his voice down, now abandoning the whole being quiet in general thing. “Get on me, _now!_ ” Mickey growled.

Ian laughed then, retracting his fingers and spitting onto his hand, wishing he had more lubrication that spit. But it would have to work. He stroked himself a few times before lining himself up. Mickey’s hole clenched around his head and he threw his head back. At this rate, he wouldn’t have to worry about the spit drying too fast. He kept at a constant pace until he was in deep. He rocked a few times, letting Mickey and himself adjust.

Mickey pushed back as if there was more to engulf. He thinks he just found his new favorite thing: being full to the brim like this with a scorching hot cock. “Move,” he groaned out, letting himself lean against his forearms and his head hanging low between his shoulders.

Ian pulled out almost completely before slamming all the way back in the same time he clamped a hand around Mickey’s mouth. And shit that was a great decision of his, they both soon realized when Ian felt the vibrations of Mickey’s groan get muffled by his hand. Having Ian’s hand clamped around his mouth made his head fall back a bit as Ian continued to pound into Mickey.

And maybe it was great that Ian had spent that time looking for Mickey’s prostate because after a few minutes of animalistic banging, Ian had slowed down, but didn’t relent. His thrust were hard and perfectly angled to hit Mickey’s sweet spot and he knew the sound was in his throat- the whine that he’d deny to his dying breath- that he wasn’t sure ever made it out of his throat. And with thrusts like those, Mickey knew he wasn’t going to last long. He was already beginning to see white when he used one of his hands to wrap around his cock, leaking with precum and begging for attention.

Sensing Mickey was close, he gripped harder to Mickey’s hip, slamming into that spot every time until Mickey was squeezing tight around him, groaning hard into his hand while he came in his own. Ian didn’t stop thrusting as he came down, reveling in the way Mickey held onto him with every thrust, just bringing him back in. He slumped against Mickey, rolling his tank up his torso so he’d be able to feel his back against his stomach. The skin on skin contact as the both came down was incredible. He released his hand from Mickey’s mouth and splayed it by Mickey’s sort of caging the smaller boy in.

Mickey wasn’t going to admit how nice it felt; not even to himself. Feeling Ian’s abs clench and unclench as he breathed in and out, his breath hot yet cool against his sweaty neck; it all felt nice. What was that thing he was talking about being someone’s bitch? If this is what it would always feel like he may have considered-

“Get the fuck off me,” Mickey hissed sharply, squirming a bit and biting down on his lip when Ian’s quickly softening member brushed against his sensitive prostate one last time before he pulled out.

He pulled up his sweats and turned around to find Ian flushed- he could tell that even in the dark- leaning against the other wall, staring at Mickey. He smirked at the look in those green eyes. He let out a heavy breath. “Damn, Gallagher. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

Ian raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t know I had it in me while I was in you?” He smirked at his own joke and Mickey rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, whatever. We should probably head back.

They exited the stall and started walking back. Mickey leaned against the wall at the entrance, figuring it’d be better if they didn’t come back at the same time.

“Guess I can check _that_ off my to-do list,” Ian mumbled, grinning at Mickey as he walked out.

Mickey let himself smile at those words. His stomach was fluttering a bit, just like his ass. He knew he’d feel this for days because holy _shit_ \- this wasn’t, couldn’t feel that good. The times he actually has been on bottom or whenever he masturbated, it was never that good.

Mickey could feel himself accepting it; that _maybe_ he actually did like dudes.

_Fucking Gallagher._

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, you should send me prompts on tumblr...


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